Sublime

grok

his life, he has been homesick.

I feel comfortable in these spaces, but I don’t really understand the Asian kids who sit nearby. They, like all Berkeley students, wear lumpy Cal sweatshirts and mostly complain about schoolwork, but they also seem completely uninterested in making friends with people of other races or backgrounds. Their insularity always feels banal and

I drove to Monterey Park, where, amid that city’s suburbs, soft and bland as tofu,

carrying with it the earthiness of the marsh reeds. I had tried to ignore the change in the confined space of the tower, but my senses still seemed too acute, too sharp. I was adapting to it, but at times like this, I remembered that just a day ago I had been someone else.

nepotistic

logorrheic